The deepest struggle in marriage is not money, miscommunication, or even differences in personality—it is hardness of heart. When our hearts grow hard, we stop listening, stop forgiving, and let the sorrowful mysteries of life overwhelm us. Instead of turning toward one another, we retreat into silence or resentment.
In Luke 16:1–8, Jesus tells a surprising parable: a dishonest steward is praised—not for his cheating, but for his resolve. Faced with crisis, he examines his situation, acknowledges his weakness, and acts decisively. Jesus invites us to do the same—not in cunning, but in spiritual courage.
The season of Advent invites us into a sacred rhythm of waiting, expectation, and discovery. It is more than a countdown to Christmas-it is a time to pause, reflect, and rediscover the deeper meaning woven into these weeks of preparation. In that spirit, I’m delighted to share the Hinges of Hope Advent Retreat guided by Fr. Hung Pham, SJ. This retreat offers a space to gather with friends from across the globe, to breathe deeply, to ponder our deepest hopes, and to reflect on how the “doors” of our lives might open wider to grace, to love, and to one another. You’re warmly invited to register here for the ZOOM session and step into this journey of reflection.
As we begin Advent, I offer you the following meditation on Holy Doors, a journey through the door of Christ.
In a world that prizes noise and productivity, Christian contemplation offers a sacred counterpoint—a quiet path to God, and a way of becoming more like Christ.
Our spiritual life is most deeply shaped not by abstract ideas, but by lived experience. The divine is the depth dimension of everything that exists—God as Being itself, dwelling at the core of who we are. When we discover a place of at-homeness within ourselves, we awaken to the unique God-dimension planted in each soul.
Every day, our attention is under siege. Notifications buzz, headlines flash, algorithms whisper, “Look here.” Social media, phones, and the endless scroll of the internet promise connection, entertainment, even meaning. But in the rush to consume, are we missing what truly matters?
Artificial intelligence is reshaping our world, but perhaps its greatest gift will be to remind us of what makes us uniquely human. In the digital age, we must have a conviction to remain human or to become like machines.
As we enter this week of Thanksgiving in the US, our hearts are drawn to the Eucharist—the great thanksgiving of the Church. In the Eucharistic offering, we blaze with gratitude for the present realization of salvation, a gift decreed by the Trinity from all eternity. Here we remember that God became matter to purify it and save it; He became man so that man might become God. This is the marvelous exchange of lives: the face of God in man, the face of man in God.
Today we celebrate Christ the King. On the cross, divinity is disfigured, stripped of all visible glory—yet fully present. Only faith can recognize it: Mary’s faith, holding even this final scene in her heart, repeating once more, “Behold, the handmaid of the Lord.”
When Jesus said, “This is my Body,” he was not only pointing to bread on a table. He was naming a truth that stretches across the whole universe: everything physical, everything material, is also spirit‑filled.